


In the aftermath of the battle

by Ryxl



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Implied Relationships, Thor actually matures, Timeskips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-05
Updated: 2013-10-12
Packaged: 2017-12-28 12:58:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/992251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryxl/pseuds/Ryxl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Odin mans up and acts somewhat responsibly after banishing Thor. One-shot, prompt fill for Trovia although it kind of went sideways and angstier than I'd intended. Or at least, I thought it was a one-shot, but the story had other ideas. Added two chapters; a ten-years-later and an epilogue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Odin confesses

“How did the guard even know?” Volstagg gestured half-heartedly with the arm still being healed.

Loki looked up from his hand, his normal, treacherous hand. “I told him.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then Fandral turned to look incredulously at him. “What?”

“I told him to go to Odin after we’d left. He should be flogged for taking so long. We should never have reached Jotunheim.”

Hogun listened silently as Loki explained his actions calmly, with perhaps just a hint of impatience that he had to explain at all. Volstagg was not so reserved.

“ _You_ told the guard?”

“I saved our lives,” the dark-haired prince retorted, quiet but firm. “And Thor’s.” The nails of his right hand dug into the skin of his left, as though they could peel away the lies he knew to be there and reveal the horrible truth that lay beneath. “I had no idea Father would _banish_ him for what he did.”

It wasn’t a lie, exactly. The idea of Thor, the favored son, being banished was something Loki had never contemplated. Punished, yes. Severely, for breaking a truce and inciting war, absolutely. But banished? It was an idea so preposterous that even now, he didn’t let himself contemplate the fallout of these events.

Sif leaped from her couch and approached him with all the deadly grace of a hunting cat. “Loki, you must go to the Allfather and convince him to change his mind.”

Loki, you must do this. Loki, you must do that. Loki, you’re the only one clever enough to talk the Allfather out of a decision he made in the heat of terrifying anger and, worse, icy disappointment. The blind confidence that normally would have stroked his ego now grated like spines in a bloody wound.

“And if I do, then what?” he spat with quiet venom. “I love Thor more dearly than any of you, but you know what he is.” Sif’s eyes widened; this was not a side of the younger prince that she was familiar with. “He’s arrogant. He’s reckless. He’s dangerous. You saw how he was today,” he snarled, his own pain bleeding through the words he struggled and failed to keep calm and detached, making them bitter. “Is that what Asgard needs from its king?”

Loki turned towards the door, intending to make his exit before the secret bubbling up from his gut could escape his clenched teeth, only to discover that the man he called his father was standing just inside. How long had he been there? None of them had been facing that direction. What had he heard?

“No,” Odin said with sad finality. “That is certainly not what a king of Asgard should be.”

“Allfather,” Sif gasped before dropping respectfully to one knee.

Hogun spun around to do the same, while the two recovering made motions to kneel that were aborted by a single raised hand biding them stay seated.

“Loki,” he continued calmly, “you demonstrated great wisdom this day. To seek the aid of another when your own abilities are insufficient to solve a problem is not weakness. The guard reached me in plenty of time.”

The two who had been injured swallowed exclamations of surprise; Sif gasped.

“I allowed you to go to Jotunheim as a test. To see if Thor was truly ready.” Odin’s single eye roamed sadly over his son’s companions. “He was not. I have banished him to Midgard, until such time as he learns that a king must serve his people rather than being served by them, and is worthy once again of consideration for the throne. Until then, he will live or die by his own actions. I know that you, his dearest companions, would die for him. That is a price he must learn to value before you are called upon to pay it. But I come to you with even graver news.”

Loki swallowed, once again picking at his left hand with absent-minded fervor.

“Laufey has declared war, as is his right after Thor’s unprovoked attack, and I must enter the Odinsleep soon. I had put it off, hoping to pass the throne to Thor, but…” He sighed heavily. “I now must ask you, his closest companions, to give Loki your support as you would Thor. Until I awaken from the Odinsleep, he will be king of Asgard.”

Volstagg and Sif went rigid, as though Odin had just announced that they would all be tortured. Hogun, grim as always, merely bowed. It was Fandral who found his voice first, murmuring “Yes, of course,” while Loki clenched his jaws together until they creaked.

The Allfather impaled each of the Warriors Three with his gaze, holding them until he was satisfied that they would do as he asked. Sif glared fiercely back for a long moment before bowing her head, and a small smile played on the king’s lips before he turned to his remaining son and all humor died. “Loki,” he said softly, “there are things we must discuss, and time is short. Walk with me.”

“Yes, Father.” The dark-haired prince threw an almost pleading glance over his shoulder as Odin turned to open the door, but only bowed heads answered him.

“You are angry with me,” Odin said without preamble as they entered the sprawling royal wing. “You have every right to be. I should have listened to your mother. I should have told you before now.”

“Told me what?” Loki asked, as if he didn’t already know. He suspected, but he wanted so very badly to be wrong.

“On the day that I took the Casket from Jotunheim, I stole an even greater treasure.” He stopped and faced his adopted son, meeting silent accusation with apology and pride. “You. In the aftermath of the battle, I went into the temple and I found a baby. Small, for a giant’s offspring, but clearly treasured and placed there for protection. Laufey’s son.”

“ _Laufey’s_ son?” Loki repeated, unable to accept this horrible truth just yet.

“I took you and raised you as my own in the hopes that we could unite our kingdoms one day, bring about an alliance, bring about a permanent peace through you.” He swayed briefly, weariness weighing heavily on him. “And now, I must unfairly thrust that burden onto you along with everything else that comes with ruling Asgard and hope, when I awaken, that you can forgive me.”

“Guards!” Loki shouted as Odin swayed again, frantic now, doing what he could to ease the older man gently to the floor. “Guards, please help!” The golden cocoon of light surrounded the Allfather’s body, now so deep in slumber as to be on the verge of death.

Armored men ran up, gathered their king gently and carried him to the protected room where he would sleep, and regain his strength. Loki followed in their wake, feeling adrift. He was numb, the temporary numbness that promised great pain when it wore off, and with strangely dry eyes he watched the man he called his father settled into the enormous bed, only distantly aware that Frigga had entered the room and was holding his hand. The guards filed out, and as the door boomed shut behind him, the ice in his heart broke.

Frigga held her adopted son tenderly as he wept, dashed upon the rocks of uncertainty by the storm of betrayal that raged within his heart.

 

* * *

 

 

When Loki stepped into the chamber bearing Gungir, Fandral was the first to notice. The blond swordsman stopped his frenetic pacing, the abrupt stillness drawing Sif and Hogun’s attention. They stood, awkwardly, wondering whether they should kneel.

“Please don’t,” Loki said tiredly when Hogun seemed about to go to one knee, his heart still sore and bleeding beneath its protective coating of ice. He strode swiftly forward and sat on the end of the couch Volstagg had just sat up from reclining on, the hand not holding the golden spear massaging his temple.

“What troubles you, _my king_?” Sif asked sharply as she sat back down.

“The fact that I’m king,” he returned dryly.

“Isn’t that what you wanted when you brought three Jotuns into Asgard to disrupt Thor’s coronation?”

Loki stared at her for a long moment, aware that the Warriors Three were weighing him with their eyes. “Yes,” he said slowly, “I brought three Jotuns into Asgard to disrupt my brother’s coronation. I didn’t think he was ready, and I wanted to prove that. But I never wanted the throne for myself.”

“Don’t lie,” she snapped back. “I know you’ve always been jealous of Thor.”

“I have, you are correct.” He gestured at them. “He is strong and admired, loved by all, the Allfather’s favorite, and he has all of you. Can you blame me for being jealous of that? He nearly got us all killed, and instead of being angry with _him_ , we turn that anger on the one responsible for his banishment. All I have ever wanted was to be so beloved, to be trusted and admired as you trust and admire him.”

Guiltily, the other four exchanged glances, remembering how often they’d doubted and jabbed at Loki.

“Loki,” Fandral said slowly, “have you been _crying_?”

“A further proof of how much I do not want this,” he answered with a tired smile. “I entrust you now with a secret entrusted to me by Odin just before he…” Loki trailed off, breath catching in his throat.

He set Gungir aside, the spear standing upright of its own accord, and summoned the Casket from the netherspace in which it had been stashed. Eyes closed, he listened for the gasps that would announce his skin changing. When the change completed, he opened red eyes and watched as the others recoiled.

“Ancient blood magic binds me to the House of Odin,” he rasped, “but I was taken from the temple on Jotunheim on the same day the war ended, born the son of Laufey.” The Casket was banished with a gesture, and he watched with visible relief as the blue faded from his skin. “And now, a Frost Giant sits on the throne of Asgard while Laufey has declared war. This is hardly an enviable position to be in.” Catching Sif’s horrified expression, he smiled grimly. “I did not want the throne when I thought myself wholly Asgardian. You think I do not know the rioting my true parentage would cause? I am the monster that parents tell their children about at night. I want no part of this, but I have no choice. A king must serve his people. But now…”

“You have more than one people to serve,” Hogun finished for him.

Volstagg chewed absently on a bite of pheasant. “That is a tricky one, isn’t it? How to stop a war when you’re suddenly invested in both sides.”

Loki spread long-fingered hands. “I need your help. I cannot yet see clearly past the emotions this revelation has stirred up. My impulse is to assassinate Laufey, but…”

“That would end the war while they scrambled to replace him,” Fandral agreed, seating himself by Hogun. “But it would forever close the door of potential reconciliation. Not only with Laufey, but possibly with all of Jotunheim.”

“My father – the Allfather – hoped that our kingdoms could be allied one day through me. He would not want me to burn that bridge, I am sure.”

“Does Laufey know?”

All eyes turned to Hogun.

“It’s Thor he has a grudge against,” Sif offered reluctantly. “Thor, and Odin for stealing you. But you…”

“You’re his son,” Fandral picked up when she trailed off. “His stolen son. Maybe if you bring him the news of Thor’s banishment…”

“Tell him _you_ banished Thor,” Volstagg interjected, sounding almost cheerful. “It’s _almost_ the truth.”

Loki turned to look at him. “You think that would cool his rage?”

“If my stolen son wound up king of whoever’d stolen him, I’d be pretty proud of him.” The bearded warrior gave him a generous shrug. “If he did it through trickery and I had no love for his adopted people, I’d be doubly proud.”

“Full of traitors,” Loki murmured, remembering. “A murderer and a thief. He might believe that. He might be willing to work with his estranged son. I’d still prefer to lure him to his death,” he admitted with a grimace.

“That would be beneath you,” Sif chided him. Her sharp, angry tone clearly took the others by as much surprise as it did Loki. “You are king of Asgard and heir to the throne of Jotunheim. Regicide would dishonor _both_ your fathers’ names.” When they continued to stare at her in astonishment, she colored slightly. “We all know that Thor doesn’t listen to sense most of the time, but when he does, he listens to you. We’ve all fallen victim to your tricks, but you are more often than not the voice of reason. If we are to support you as we would Thor, then someone needs to take your place as the bearer of harsh truths.”

A faint smile ghosted across Loki’s lips, and he inclined his head to her. “Thank you. I will endeavor to be wiser than my brother, and listen to cooler heads when my heart drowns mine out.”

Fandral grinned at him. “Well, I’ve no desire to pick a fight with Jotunheim again anytime soon, and to give you anything less than our unwavering support would dishonor Thor.”

“We’d have been fighting Jotuns soon enough even if you hadn’t done anything,” Volstagg said with another careless shrug. “I hate to say it, but we all know how he is. It’ll be interesting to follow a son of Odin who actually thinks about getting out alive _before_ it becomes necessary.” He paused. “Erm…you _will_ ask Heimdall how he’s doing from time to time, won’t you?”

Loki smiled in relief. “I already have. He’s unharmed, and in the company of a handful of mortals intent on learning the secrets of the universe. With any luck, they’ll keep him too occupied to get himself into _too_ much trouble, and teach him how to use the wits he was born with.” The smile faded out. “Do you think I should make it publically known that I am…”

Sif and Hogun exchanged looks. “Wait,” the grim-faced warrior said simply.

“Until after the threat of war is over,” Sif clarified. “Then, with your lady mother at your side and possibly the Allfather as well, you can announce that your secret past was the path to peace.”

“I hope you’re right,” Loki said wearily as he stood up. “I certainly can’t see it as anything to be proud of at the moment, but this war isn’t going to end itself. I must speak with Heimdall, and then…Laufey.”

“Do not hesitate to call upon us,” Sif said, hurrying to stand only to fall gracefully to one knee, fist over her heart. “…my king.”

One by one, the Warriors Three followed her lead and a bit of the ice in Loki’s heart began to thaw.


	2. Science and magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten years later, Thor returns to Asgard and finds that everything has changed except him.

It had been a long ten years, Jane thought as they pulled up to the Bifrost site. This was where it all began. Where Thor – she glanced at the mortal demigod smiling ruggedly at her from the passenger seat – had arrived from another world. Where she had, technically, hit him with the van’s predecessor and Darcy had tased him. She spared a moment to think wistfully about the younger woman, the poli-sci major who had been the only applicant four years in a row, although what Darcy was going to do with twenty-four hard science credits was anyone’s guess. They’d lost touch a bit after she graduated, aside from emails from time to time asking how the research was going, how Jane was doing, how Jane’s relationship with Thor was going. Fine, fine, and stop asking were the usual answers. It wasn’t that they didn’t _have_ a relationship, Jane thought sharply as she parked the van. It was just that the science came first for both of them. They were more likely to make out after a successful experiment than they were on a romantic date, not that they had many of those. As she unbuckled herself, she felt a thrill of pure excitement flutter in her belly. If this went right…

She wished Erik were here to see as she swept sand off the design imprinted on the ground, but he’d been distant the first few months after Thor entered her life, and then science had kept their schedules from allowing much in the way of visits, and then…the heart attack. Jane blinked back tears as Thor brought out the first pieces of equipment, rebuilt from her notes after Agent Son-of-Coul had hauled away all her stuff. They’d taken the hammer, too, something with Thor was alternately sullenly resentful and amused by. It was hard to tell after their little mobile base had picked up and left, but she guessed they’d had to take a large chunk of rock with them to move the mystic object. Part of her wished them no luck in discovering its secrets, after they’d set her research back nearly a decade. The rest of her was concerned only with the equipment she was setting up, certain that she was about to make history.

“Jane…”

A real, generated wormhole, a portal to a world of the beings humanity called gods.

“Jane!”

Thor’s voice broke through her thoughts and she looked up, annoyed. “What?”

Then she saw the cars. Sleek and black, unmarked, discreet. Had they followed her? Had they known she would be here today? Or was it a coincidence? Silent, dark-clad men and women climbed out of the three vehicles. Most of them wore body armor and hefted impressively lethal-looking guns, but a handful wouldn’t have looked out of place in a big company. The one in charge was female, which added a small note of pride to the indignity of what she was certain they were here to do. Her dark hair was tied severely back, and she was walking purposefully towards Jane, removing her sunglasses as she did.

“Ms. Foster,” the no-nonsense woman said, “I’m Agent Lewis with SHIELD. We received word that you and your…companion…were about to engage in a potentially-dangerous experiment to re-open the Bifrost.”

Jane blinked. The voice…Lewis? Agent…

“Darcy?” Thor asked.

“Yep, it’s me.” The younger woman smiled.

“Darcy, you work for SHIELD? And you didn’t tell us? You didn’t help me get my stuff back?” Jane wasn’t sure which part of that grated more.

She shrugged. “They hired me after I graduated. By that time, your equipment was scattered and outdated. And, of course, secret government agencies aren’t something you can just go around emailing your friends that you work for. So, all set for the big test?”

As much as Jane was happy to have at least one friend there, she had to wonder… “What about your gun-toting friends over there?”

Darcy made a what-can-you-do gesture. “Half protocol, half just in case you miss and an army of pissed-off frost giants comes out or something.”

Thor looked at Jane and grinned. “I knew I liked her.”

“Alright, people, into formation, let’s move it!” Darcy Lewis clapped her hands and the agents spread out to encircle the Bifrost site, weapons at the ready. “Your show, Jane,” she grinned at the older woman. “Call it.”

Jane looked at Thor. He nodded. She nodded back and took a deep breath. “Let’s do this.”

 

* * *

 

 

“I admit,” Laufey said, his breaking-ice voice admiring to Loki’s experienced ear, “that I had my doubts about you.”

Blue-skinned and red-eyed, Loki looked up at his birth father. “How so?”

“When I first saw you, you were…timid. The son of Odin spoke to you as if you were an unruly pet. But you fought well enough. Cleverness over brute force. Then, when you came to me boldly and claimed that you had usurped the Allfather, that you sat on the throne while his own son was cast out, stripped of his powers and banished…I suspected it was a lie.”

He didn’t bother to deny it. “And now?”

The king of Jotunheim smiled. Once, Loki would have found it a horrifying rictus. Ten years had taught him to read the contours of a Jotun face, and what he read now was pride. “And now…I know that it was a lie, and at the same time, the truth. Your actions revealed his true nature. The Allfather cast him out. And you, my son, took the throne while he slept and proved worthy to sit upon it and be his heir. It took a thousand years, but Jotunheim has triumphed over Asgard. Odin may have thought he won by stealing you, but in the end, my son will be king while his remains but a boy.”

“And what of Jotunheim?” Loki asked quietly.

“I have other sons. Younger than you, less clever, but one of them will serve well enough.” Slyly, he looked down at his eldest. “What of your progeny?”

“My son is quite unfit for any throne,” he answered lightly.

Laufey let out a _hmph_. “You have no consort, then?”

“I am a prince.” Loki waved the matter away. “The problem is not picking a woman to my tastes, the problem is finding one who can bear me a worthy heir.”

“There was a female in your company when first you came to this realm. She fought well and cleverly.”

The adopted son of Odin choked.

“You are welcome, of course, to choose a consort from among your own people. For pleasure and companionship, if nothing else.”

“The idea has some merit.” Loki tapped one finger against his lips, staring into the cold distance. “To have a Jotun at court would, I think, demonstrate to Asgard how things stand more effectively than any speech. She would need to be clever and brave, a warrior in spirit and wit.”

“I will find candidates for you. When next the Allfather sleeps, return and they will be waiting for your approval.”

“Thank you.” The younger man bowed, grateful that blue skin did not flush with embarrassment.

He had no such protection when the Bifrost returned him to the observatory, and Heimdall’s blank expression was the slightest bit amused. To the untrained eye, he seemed impassive as always, but Loki had spent ten years learning the subtleties of Hogun’s expressions.

“Not a word to Lady Sif,” Loki said without preamble.

“I wouldn’t dream of it. Would you like to know what your brother is up to?”

Well, yes actually, he would. “Please, good Heimdall.”

“The device is complete. He and the mortal, Jane, intend to test it very soon.”

Loki frowned. “And you’re sure it won’t harm the Bifrost?”

“I am sure of nothing.”

“What of Mjolnir?”

“The same,” Heimdall intoned. “It sleeps, protected.”

In other words, Thor was still unworthy and his banishment was still in effect. It was one of an increasing number of subjects that Odin had begun delegating to his heir, easing the burden of the throne slowly onto his shoulders and smoothing the eventual transition of power.

“Thank you, Gatekeeper.” Loki bowed to the imposing figure in gold armor, and received a slight nod in return.

As he rode back to the palace, he pondered what exactly he was going to do with his wayward brother.

 

* * *

 

 

“What news?” Volstagg asked as Loki strode in, shifting to one side of the couch and offering his temporary king a goblet of wine.

“Laufey knows I lied about having Thor banished and usurping Father.” Loki murmured thanks and took a sip of wine. “He’s proud of me anyway for accomplishing what he thinks were my goals through guile rather than force.”

“As long as he’s still happy with you and not intent on making war, I’m happy.” Fandral grinned at Hogun, then thought better of it and directed his smile at Sif instead.

“What else?” the warrior-maiden demanded in her usual sharp tones.

Loki grimaced. “He asked if I had sons, or at least a consort.”

Beside him, Volstagg hooted in delight. “I called it! He broached the subject before Lady Frigga!”

Sif ignored him. “What did you say?”

“That my son was hardly fit for a throne, and I evaded the question.” Pale eyes narrowed as they read subtle triumph in the slant of dark eyebrows and proud cheekbones. “He suggested I take one from my birth-race,” Loki continued lightly, and swallowed a smile when Sif’s eyes flashed for the briefest moment.

Across from him, Fandral looked suddenly interested. “A she-Jotun. I’ve never seen one before, much less…” he chuckled.

“Well, I told him the idea of having a Jotun woman in court was a good one. I expect I’ll be bringing back a brave and enterprising guest with me when next I visit.”

“What news of Thor?”

Hogun’s quiet question cut through the light mood. “The device is complete. They intend to test it soon. Mjolnir sleeps still.”

Silence reigned for a long minute. It was Sif who finally voiced the question the Warriors Three dreaded to ask. “What will you do?”

“I will rescind his banishment for one day,” the dark-haired prince answered slowly. “In celebration of the device’s success, and because the mortal Jane Foster is unlikely to want to stay here. So. He will be welcome for a brief visit, and then he must return with her to Midgard and continue his journey of self-improvement.”

It was the best solution, and they all knew it. Thor’s absence had drawn them closer together for the loss of the star around which they had revolved, the bonds of friendship all the tighter for having to rely upon each other without him, and none of them were sure they wanted to give that up again even if it meant the return of their dearest friend.

“It’s going to be awkward in any case,” Volstagg sighed. “Especially with your father in the Odinsleep.”

“He doesn’t know the Allfather’s made you his heir.” Blonde eyebrows climbed. “He doesn’t know you’re Laufey’s son!”

Loki clapped his hands together in a mockery of cheer. “Well then, if there’s any other awkward confessions or developments to present him with, we should air them now so that we’re all prepared for it.” He looked around, but the others were each doing the same. “No one? Very well, I’ll go. Laufey fancies Lady Sif as my queen.”

All eyes turned to the warrior-maiden, who raised her chin defiantly in denial of the blush that colored her cheeks. “I am honored that he thinks so highly of me.”

“He admired the cleverness with which you fought.”

“Please extend my thanks to him upon your next visit.”

“Our sons would be fierce and clever, but I wonder if I wouldn’t rather have a daughter as my heir.”

That startled her into meeting his eyes. “Your father would _never_ approve.”

“But my mother _would_. She likes you.”

“Loki, are you asking…”

“I wouldn’t _dare_ be so presumptuous. I’m merely saying that should you find the idea favorable, I would be in full agreement.”

“Well,” she said, sounding both startled and pleased. “I suppose the idea merits further discussion, particularly if it means strengthened relations with Jotunheim.”

“Wouldn’t want Loki to have to get Asgard _warmed up_ to the idea of a Jotun queen, now would we?” Volstagg chuckled while Hogun’s forbidding expression relaxed minutely in amusement.

Fandral smirked. “Leave it to me to give her a _warm welcome_ when she arrives.”

“They’re going to be at it all night,” Loki murmured in Sif’s direction while she rolled her eyes. “Shall we have that discussion now?”

“Someplace quieter,” she half-asked, wincing as the phrase _cold shoulder_ got shoehorned into an otherwise inoffensive statement.

Hogun’s eyes crinkled in the grim warrior’s unique smile as they left the room. The instant the door closed behind them, the other two stopped trying to out-do each other with temperature-related puns.

“Did you see that?” The blond swordsman slapped his knee, grinning. “Flawless technique!”

Volstagg grinned back. “Starting out on the right foot by not even _pretending_ that he was the one with the final say. Brilliant!”

“How long do you think she’s fancied him?”

“That she’d admit to? Probably not more than ten years.”

The smiles faltered as they remembered how Thor had been the center of their world, the shining embodiment of Asgard that both inspired them all, and blinded them to everything else.

“I win,” Hogun said quietly into the sudden silence. Then, slowly, he smiled.

 

* * *

 

 

“I’ve given it a lot of thought,” Loki said as they entered the courtyard, late-afternoon shadows painting half of it in darkened shades. “You have been my truest advisor these last ten years, your wit as agile a weapon as your blade. From a political standpoint, you’re ideal. My brother would be expected to marry outside the realm to strengthen diplomatic ties, but with Laufey as my birth-father…”

“Better you marry an Asgardian, and affirm your connection to this one.”

“Your name is sung in all corners of Asgard. I wouldn’t be surprised if half the populace already expects you to be queen some day by virtue of carrying a son of Odin off over your shoulder.”

She returned his smile. “Our children wouldn’t suffer for looks,” she conceded slyly. “You’re _almost_ aspretty as a woman.”

“But more importantly, they wouldn’t suffer for cleverness, common sense, and strength. With a Jotun sorcerer for a father and a warrior-maiden for a mother, they will be free of any expectations society might otherwise bind them with. Male or female, if they are warriors people will smile and say it’s no surprise that they got it from you. If they favor weapons of the mind, then clearly they got it from me. They won’t have to fight for recognition as we did, because we’ve broken the trail for them.”

Sif nodded, solemn now. “You know that I am a maiden. I’ve never…”

“Think of it as learning a new technique,” Loki said gently. “I’ll demonstrate and guide you through the steps. Then we’ll practice together, and when you feel comfortable I’ll let you take the lead.”

She grinned. “And when I best you at it?”

“That’s the best part,” he laughed as he took her hands and guided her towards a sun-warmed bench. “When we grapple until we are sweaty and exhausted, we both win.”

Slowly, he bent his head to hers, eyes fluttering closed as their lips touched. Her fingers tightened at the contact, warrior’s instincts fighting against the vulnerability of wanting to open her heart. Loki straightened again and disentangled one hand, ignoring her puzzled expression while he retrieved the dagger strapped to the small of his back and pressed it into her right hand.

“You’ve fought to keep yourself from being at the mercy of any man,” he said softly, watching for understanding in her eyes and the slant of her eyebrows. “I would not expect you to surrender any bit of yourself to me, even as my queen. _Especially_ as my queen. Father kept the secret of my birth against my mother’s advice, and it nearly led to disaster. I will not suffer you to be any less than my equal, Sif. If we do this, it will be by _your_ will and I don’t want you to feel that you have no control, even as I show you how it is done.”

Sif looked at the dagger in her hand for a moment, adjusting her grip until she was satisfied. “So I am demanding your attentions at knifepoint rather than receiving them?” She grinned. “Hardly fair to you.”

“No,” he disagreed gently. “To me, you are _more_ than fair.”

Cheeks now slightly pink, she gestured him to the bench with her blade and sat astride him, one hand buried in his hair while the other brought the dagger’s edge teasingly close to his throat. “Show me what you know,” she demanded in a low growl that did nothing to hide her pleasure.

“As you command.”

Making no sudden motions, Loki placed one hand on her hip and the other high on her back. When she bent her head, he raised his to meet it and when their lips met, the hand holding the knife dropped to his shoulder. As was to be expected, Sif was a fast learner and it wasn’t long before the point of the blade was relegated to a position of only token threat somewhere north of his kidney. It was understandable, then, that when Jane’s Einstein-Rosen bridge deposited her, Thor, Darcy Lewis, and three armed SHIELD agents in the courtyard, Sif’s reaction was to pull Loki’s head to the side and bring the dagger back up to his throat, her teeth bared in a silent snarl as she turned to see who had interrupted them. Startled by her sudden movement, the prince held his hands away from both their bodies in a gesture of surrender.

Of all the things Thor might have expected to see at the other end of the journey between worlds, his younger brother about to be murdered by Lady Sif was so far down the list that all he could do was stare.

The warrior-maiden recovered first. “Thor!” She glanced back at the man whose lap she was sitting on. “Sorry, Loki.”

“It’s alright,” he said, his chuckle half a cough.

“Sir…”

“Stand down,” Darcy said curtly. “Thor, you going to introduce us?”

The blond demigod shook his head. “Yes, of course. Lady Sif; my brother Loki, prince of Asgard; Jane Foster, whose device brought us here; Darcy Lewis and three of her guards.” He frowned. “Sif, why are you…” the words trailed off as she stood up and his brother’s arousal became briefly apparent before he, too, stood and the fit of his trousers concealed it. “ _Sif?_ ”

Her eyes flashed at the incredulity in his voice. “Is there a problem?”

“Ah, I’m afraid if you’re going to threaten my brother, you’ll need to do it with your own weapons.” Loki plucked the dagger from her hand and sheathed it again. “And I’m afraid I must be a king first and a brother second: Thor, your banishment remains in effect until you are worthy to lift Mjolnir again. However, to celebrate the success of Jane Foster’s device, I am rescinding it for one day. Now then,” he smiled. “Welcome home, brother. Even if it is only temporary.”

From the stormy expression on Thor’s face, it was clear that the word he’d heard most clearly was ‘king’. “Loki…”

“The Allfather is currently resting,” the dark-haired prince said with a charming smile for his guests. “The burden of the throne falls to me in his temporary absence, as has been the case since your banishment. As interim king of Asgard, I bid you all welcome.” He strode up to Jane and took her hand, bowing graciously over it. “Jane Foster. You have the sincerest thanks of the House of Odin for taking in my wayward brother and teaching him the ways of your realm.”

Ten years hadn’t been enough to inure her to Asgardian charm, and she smiled. “Well, it was the least I could do after I hit him with my car.”

“Twice,” Darcy interjected smugly. “And I tased him.”

Loki released Jane’s hand to bow over the younger woman’s. “And for that, you have my admiration,” he murmured.

“Sif,” Thor demanded in a low tone, “what is the meaning of this?”

“Your father charged us with being Loki’s companions in your absence, and supporting him as we would you. He didn’t want the throne, but for the good of Asgard, the Allfather had to have an heir.” She grinned in the younger prince’s direction. “He’s come to terms everything fairly well, all things considered.”

Jane wasn’t sure she liked the hurt and confused way Thor was looking at the warrior woman, as if he’d just discovered that his grants had been revoked and his equipment reassigned to someone else’s project.

“We’ve made great diplomatic strides with Jotunheim,” Loki said, smoothly entering the conversation again, “but such things can wait. Please, let me show you all to a more comfortable location where we can sit and talk. There’s no reason to stand around in a courtyard when hospitality demands a feast.”

“And afterwards, we can discuss Asgard’s relations with SHIELD,” Darcy said in a tone just shy of being a demand.

“And how we’re all going to get home,” Jane added.

Loki favored her with a cool, measuring look. “Indeed, and the subject of calibration. We do not often invite guests to appear in the heart of the palace.”

She didn’t take offense. “I’m just glad we arrived in one piece.”

“Lady Sif, do you think we could talk?” Darcy asked. “There’s a few Earth legends I’d like to ask you about.”

“It would be my pleasure to talk with a warrior-maiden from Midgard,” she replied.

“Brother,” Loki said to Thor, “if you would lead the way?”

The older prince straightened with a nod, although his eyes still begged for answers.

 

* * *

 

 

Servants ran frantically through golden halls, dancing to the tune of Gungir in Loki’s hand. That Thor had returned would be public knowledge by morning; that he was still mortal meant no one outside of the palace would be allowed to see him, and the feast being held was in honor of the dignitaries from Midgard rather than the still-disgraced son of Odin. Frigga took the news well, smiling at her son through sharp disappointment before lavishing attention on Jane. The scientist had hoped to meet Thor’s family one day, and although she’d thought it would be as his fiancée, she found herself pleased that the queen was genuinely interested in her for the science rather than for what did or did not happen in Thor’s bed.

Thor basked in the warm welcome of the Warriors Three, but his joy soured when Sif casually sat at Loki’s right hand, as if it were her accustomed place, and waved Darcy Lewis to sit by her.

“Well,” Volstagg said apologetically, “he _will_ need a queen.”

“Loki,” Frigga said when everyone had been seated, “tell me how your trip to Jotunheim went. Is Laufey well?”

“More than well, Mother,” the interim king replied with a smile. “He is proud of the guile with which I tricked him into calling off war on Asgard, and he asked if I had sons or a consort to sire them on. A full alliance won’t be too far away. Oh, and he offered to find a brave Jotun woman to send to court.” He grimaced. “And my bed should I wish it, but I am not inclined to embrace that aspect of Jotun culture. The fact that I will one day be king will tie our realms together securely enough, I think.”

The older prince choked on a piece of meat, and it took several seconds to dislodge it.

“You will need heirs of your own,” Frigga pointed out.

“I will.” Loki took a deep breath and glanced at the woman to his right. Sif nodded. “Laufey favors Lady Sif as my queen.”

Frigga laughed in delight. “Your sire and I are united in something besides pride in our son. Sif, are you amenable to this?”

“Yes, my queen,” the younger woman replied warmly.

Thor felt as if he’d been kicked in the gut, then punched somewhat lower. Loki, king? Sif his queen? And what was this about Laufey? Beside him, Jane looked utterly lost and Loki shot her a look of sympathy that may have been meant for Thor, as well.

“I was adopted,” he explained calmly. “A hostage taken at the end of the war with Jotunheim, the new-born son of Laufey, king of the Jotuns. The day Thor was banished for inciting war with them again, our father told me the truth. It took some clever talking to forestall actual hostilities, and we have slowly been climbing from uneasy truce towards open alliance. With my brother gone, I was the only son of Odin left to be heir to the throne and that is the basis for the fragile peace between my two races.”

“I see,” said Jane, although the entire explanation sounded to her like _I’m sorry that Thor’s going to be sullen and miserable to deal with for the next few months_.

“He wouldn’t have been able to do it without us,” the bearded warrior Thor had greeted as Volstagg said cheerfully from across the table.

“He’s right, I would have gone crazy without trustworthy companions to steady me in those early days.” Loki lavished an admiring look on the fierce woman sitting smugly to his right, then an equally devoted one to his mother. “If there’s one thing I learned growing up, it’s that beside every great king stands the woman who made him great.”

Jane’s eyebrows rose as she inclined her head to the queen. “Nicely done with that one.”

“Loki has always been a sweet boy,” Frigga demurred.

Thor gave both of them a hurt look; Fandral elbowed him.

“Didn’t I tell you that maidens like it better if they think _they’re_ the center of your world?” he teased. “I mean, we’re all very impressed with you, but you get better results if _you’re_ impressed with _them_.”

“I don’t need lessons,” Thor growled under his breath.

“Of course not. Lady Darcy,” the blond man called, “is it true that you brought Thor down with a single blow?”

“I sure did,” she called back cheerfully.

“And the three warriors of Midgard, they answer to you?”

“I brought a dozen with me. The others are guarding the Bifrost site.”

Fandral let out a low whistle. “Quite the fearsome warband, no doubt. How _ever_ did you earn their loyalty?”

She smiled. “By being terrifying.”

“It’s true,” one of the other agents piped up. “I’d follow Agent Lewis through fire and into hell itself because no matter where she goes, the safest place to be is on her good side.”

The other two nodded vigorously.

Thor and Jane stared at her, mouths open. “Darcy?” the scientist said at last. “No, you were always so quiet and cheerful and…harmless.”

“She did tase me once.”

Darcy shrugged. “I didn’t have to be anything else with you guys. It was a nice break. But really – if I weren’t used to handling myself in a rough neighborhood, why would I have had a taser with me in the middle of nowhere?”

“Of course!” Undaunted, Fandral lifted his goblet in a toast. “A warrior-maiden would not go unarmed, leaving herself at the mercy of any scoundrel who should happen along. But I suspect your favored weapon is the spoken word, and I daresay you’d give our silver-tongued Loki a run for his title.”

“I think you’ve got a bit of silver on your own tongue,” she retorted, but it was clear that she was pleased with the flattery.

He grinned with blatantly false modesty. “I may have some experience in giving praise where it is due.”

“And is that tongue of yours good for…anything else?”

“Lady Darcy, I would be _delighted_ to demonstrate any of my skills for you in a less…crowded...setting.”

The look she gave him was both approving and appraising. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“And that,” he muttered smugly to Thor, “is how it’s done.”

The golden-haired prince ignored him, instead fixing his brother with an unhappy look that fell just short of being a glare. “I wish to see Father.”

Loki, hearing _I want to talk with you alone,_ nodded. “I will take you myself. Mother, Lady Sif, please forgive me for leaving you with the burden of entertaining our guests.”

Both princes bowed to their companions as they stood and walked out of the room. The instant they were gone, Darcy shoed her agents further down the table while Sif’s sharp gaze encouraged the Warriors Three to do the same.

“It just goes to show,” Fandral said lightly as they settled into their new seats, “that it doesn’t matter if they’re milkmaids or queens: you put more than one woman together, and they’re going to shoo you away for women’s talk.”

 

* * *

 

 

“You are angry,” Loki said once the doors to Odin’s chamber had shut. “You feel hurt and betrayed.” The smile he gave his brother was full of old pain and sorrow. “You are likely wondering what your place in the world is, now that what you had always believed to be truth is revealed as a child’s dream. I know too well what that’s like.”

Thor swept away the comments with an angry gesture. “Why did you do it, Loki?”

“Because there was no other choice.”

“You stole my birthright!”

“I had it thrust upon me, Thor! I had to shoulder this burden unwillingly because _you_ were so certain that you could do no wrong.”

“You’re a talented liar, brother,” he snarled from between clenched teeth. “Always have been.”

Instead of rising to the bait, the dark-haired prince sat on the ornate foot of Odin’s enormous bed and sighed. “You have no idea, after all this time, why Father cast you out. You thought that if you just found a way to return to Asgard, all would be forgiven and you’d be crowned king?” The expression on his brother’s face said very clearly that this was the case. “Thor, you broke one of the most serious laws of Asgard when you browbeat us into going to Jotunheim with you. Your idea of diplomacy was insults and threats. You attacked without hesitation and showed no remorse for having incited a war. You nearly got us all killed.”

The calm, disappointed tone of Loki’s voice brought to mind dozens of scoldings delivered by their mother, and Thor found himself fidgeting like a guilty child. “But…”

“Mjolnir will not answer your call until you have proven yourself worthy to be called a prince of Asgard. That was Father’s decree, and even acting as king while he rests, I cannot undo your banishment.”

“Have you enjoyed taking my place these last ten years, then?” Thor demanded, hands fisted at his sides. A decade of being mortal had taught him some measure of restraint, at least.

“If I had known that letting three Jotuns in to interrupt your coronation would lead to your banishment, I would have just gone to Father and laid my concerns at his feet. But with you gone, there had to be an heir, someone who could step up and take your place. Father was very impressed that I’d ended the war you started, and done so bloodlessly, so it was me.”

“That nonsense about you being one of those monsters,” the older prince scoffed. “I’m not a child, brother. We both know that you’re not…”

The words died on his tongue as Loki’s skin darkened to something paler than Laufey’s, but still quite blue and marked with raised lines curving down through his hair and leading away from eyes which were red from lid to lid, broken only by the darkness of his pupils.

“You think I wanted this?” Loki asked, his voice a bleeding rasp. “To be one of those monsters, thrust upon the throne and faced with protecting the father who’d raised me from the father who’d sired me? Stopping a war between the race I’d always thought I was, and the race I never wanted to be? I was torn between wishing you would return home to be king so that my nightmare could end, and the terrifying possibility that if you did, you would still be a hot-headed, arrogant warrior craving battle who would plunge us right back into the war I’d stopped, and my nightmare would become that much worse because I would be forced to pick a side. I still think of myself as a monster, Thor. A lifetime of prejudice is not unlearned so easily. And if you found your humility and proved worthy of being Father’s heir again, I’m not certain that Father wouldn’t find my lifeless body impaled on Gungir one day shortly after that.”

Loki released his hold on his heritage, shuddering violently as his coloration returned to its usual pale peach. The sight of his brother looking Asgardian again and so distraught seemed to release Thor from the clutches of sympathetic horror.

“Loki, no,” he half-pled. “You cannot think that I would-”

“Not you, Thor,” his brother interrupted gently. “Me. I would do it myself, if I knew that Asgard no longer needed me.” Loki took a deep, steadying breath. “But I have responsibilities to Asgard, and to Jotunheim, and now to Sif.”

“Do you love her?” the mortal prince demanded.

“I respect her, and admire her, and she is almost as dear a friend to me as you are. She, in return, likes and respects me, and it’s not flattery to say that she finds me attractive. We’re not doing this for love, unless it is love for Asgard. I am a Jotun; I need an Asgardian queen to reassure the people, and no one would _dare_ whisper about Sif being anything less than a full partner once we are wed. As far as marrying for the good of the realm goes…” Loki shrugged. “At least we know and like each other, and trust each other under all possible circumstances. Many marriages are sealed with far less.”

The anger drained out of Thor suddenly, and he sat on the foot of the bed next to Loki, head in his hands. “And where does that leave me?” he asked quietly.

Loki laid a hand reassuringly on his brother’s shoulder. “Trust me to keep Asgard safe. Take as much time as you need while you are mortal to discover the true prince hiding within your heart. Lay down the burden of being a warrior, of being the mighty Thor whose every deed must add to his glory or else. Be _yourself_. Find who that is, explore the man you could be if you didn’t have to live up to being Father’s heir. Never doubt that whoever you are, however you live your life, you are my brother and I _love_ you. And then, when you are ready to pick up those burdens again, Mjolnir will awaken and Heimdall will bring you home. Mother will weep with joy over you, and even Father will shed a tear or two of pride for the man you’ve become.”

“And what of the throne?”

“We’ll have to discuss that when you return. If you even still want it.”

Thor opened his mouth to protest that _of course_ he’d want it, then reconsidered. After the revelation that his brother was a frost giant’s son, the possibility that he might _not_ want to be king didn’t seem so impossible. “Thank you,” he said finally. “May…when you and Sif…may I…?”

“I would never suffer my brother to be absent on my wedding day,” Loki reassured him firmly.

Tears in his eyes, Thor wrapped one arm around his brother’s shoulders in the sort of hug they’d shared so many times. “Then I will look forward to seeing you again on that day.”

“Unless you come home on your own sooner,” Loki countered lightly, returning the hug.

Thor’s smile faded. Humans lived such short lives, and he’d already wasted a decade of Jane’s in the self-centered conviction that all he had to do was return to Asgard and reclaim his place. “We’ll see. I don’t think I’ll be lifting Mjolnir for a while yet.”

Pale eyes studied the unusually thoughtful expression on Thor’s face, but all Loki said was, “Take as much time as you need, brother.”


	3. Letting go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I didn't expect to write this. The story had other ideas.

“Thank you for allowing this,” Thor said to Darcy.

Four more decades on Earth had left him a still-vigorous, dignified older man, while Darcy Lewis was a slightly more youthful, whipcord-lean, terrifyingly stern and yet bland woman in a suit. She reminded him of Agent Coulson; a warrior not to be underestimated despite an unassuming appearance.

“Jane would have wanted to see it,” Darcy replied, “but I understand why you waited. And I don’t doubt that it would have come to you no matter where we had it stored, so…”

With a shrug, she gestured to the hammer still anchored firmly to the chunk of pressure-fused rock that had cradled it since it first landed in the New Mexico desert. SHIELD agents watched from a healthy distance, some of them staring curiously at the newly-unearthed Bifrost site while others covertly eyed the hammer and wondered what it was they were about to swear they never saw.

The years spent as Jane Foster’s mortal husband had taught Thor more about life, and himself, than centuries as a prince of Asgard ever had, and he was a little surprised at the flutter of fear he felt at the thought of returning to that life. He was changed in so many ways, and yet…although he was uncertain what welcome his parents would give this new, somber Thor, he had no doubt that Loki would greet him with the unconditional love he hadn’t deserved before his banishment. It warmed him, gave him a core of confidence, and when he reached for Mjolnir’s handle it was with the same ease that he would clasp his brother’s hand.

The hammer lifted in his grip, feather-light as it always had been, and more than a few of the SHIELD agents gasped to see an elderly man heft with one hand what it had taken six of them to maneuver out of the van and onto the desert sand. In a gesture that was less triumphant and more invocation, Thor raised Mjolnir above his head and the lightning answered, flowing down to coat him in its crackling power. The armor that had shattered so many years ago flew from nowhere to encase his body once again, even as that aged flesh rippled and swelled before firming into the peak of youthful fitness. His hair, short and steely, lengthened and absorbed the light of the sun even as the wind of his transformation caught on his cloak in an achingly familiar tug.

When the lightning faded, leaving the prince of Asgard fully restored, Darcy stepped fearlessly forward to hug him while her subordinates simply stared, not yet ready to comprehend what they’d seen. Gently, mindful of his strength, he returned the embrace.

“Farewell, Darcy Lewis,” he rumbled into her greying hair in its severe bun. “It was an honor to have known you, and Jane, and Erik. I only wish it had not taken me so long to stop chasing what I thought I wanted, and appreciate what I had.”

“We all make mistakes,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady even if she’d lost the fight to keep her eyes dry. It hadn’t been so very long since Jane’s funeral. “The important part is to learn from them.”

“At least I managed that much.”

“Come visit sometime, okay?”

Thor smiled, an expression that reminded her of pancakes and scrambled eggs and Facebook. “If my king allows it.”

“Yeah, well…if he doesn’t, try asking your queen.”

Darcy stepped back and watched Thor stride to the edge of the pattern imprinted on the soil before raising his face to the clear blue sky.

“Heimdall,” he commanded quietly, “open the Bifrost.”

The sky roiled; a beam of multicolored energy shot down and struck the patterned circle. With one last smile, Thor stepped inside it and vanished as the beam retracted, bringing him home at last.


End file.
